Emily Pauline Johnson

[Tekahionwake] (10 March 1861 – 7 March 1913 / Chiefswood, Ontario)

Emily Pauline Johnson Poems

81. Aspens 1/1/2004
82. Beyond The Blue 1/1/2004
83. Ojistoh 1/1/2004
84. Finale 1/1/2004
85. Close By 1/1/2004
86. The Happy Hunting Grounds 1/1/2004
87. As Red Men Die 1/1/2004
88. Autumn's Orchestra 1/1/2004
89. Moonset 1/1/2004
90. Harvest Time 1/1/2004
91. Canada 1/1/2004
92. The Cattle Thief 1/1/2004
93. At Sunset 1/1/2004
94. The Giant Oak 1/1/2004
95. A Cry From An Indian Wife 1/1/2004
96. Fire-Flowers 1/1/2004
97. Canadian Born 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Emily Pauline Johnson

Canadian Born

We first saw light in Canada, the land beloved of God;
We are the pulse of Canada, its marrow and its blood:
And we, the men of Canada, can face the world and brag
That we were born in Canada beneath the British flag.

Few of us have the blood of kings, few are of courtly birth,
But few are vagabonds or rogues of doubtful name and worth;
And all have one credential that entitles us to brag--
That we were born in Canada beneath the British flag.

We've yet to make our money, we've yet to make our fame,
But we have gold and glory in our clean colonial ...

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The Camper

Night 'neath the northern skies, lone, black, and grim:
Naught but the starlight lies 'twixt heaven, and him.

Of man no need has he, of God, no prayer;
He and his Deity are brothers there.

Above his bivouac the firs fling down
Through branches gaunt and black, their needles brown.

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